


Identity Crisis

by Shahqulu



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Wee Woo Wee Woo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:56:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shahqulu/pseuds/Shahqulu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not a machine.</p><p> </p><p>You're a murderer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Identity Crisis

Something breaks.

Snaps like rotten twigs beneath metal plated boots.

The crackle rings like shrieks in your ears as gravity sweeps from beneath you.

All you know is the rush of blood in the spare seconds,

It was Washington that is beneath you when you came too, came back from the dark parts;

Back from where the world had tilted and grated like rusted gears against soft pliable plastic.

He was not moving.

There were words across the comm-system, but Felix was not the voice you heard.

It was not his mocking laughter that was floating across the airwaves.

Washington was not moving.

The broken pieces that made up you are still shattered around your feet, around the Freelancer lying on the warm grass;

too warm

You were hot, like a pit of fire was crackling beneath your feet.

Roasting

Felix’s voice came through enraged, _different_.

You realize as you stare up into the sky that you did not have time to think.

About Washington, or how harsh his words had felt against every fiber of your being.

You realize...

That you are angrier than you have ever been.

That you were not sure if you hated Washington or if you hated yourself,

You give a second to check the pulse in his wrist;

—you do not care—

The thick Kevlar forces you to take time; try not to let your heart beat out of your armor.

—you do not—

The pulse thumps against your fingers,

You breathe.

Leaving Washington there was easier after that,

the odds are against you right now

you do not have time to sit and think

the anger was still there, 

the self-hatred was asking for the attention you never gave it

—not now, not ever—

You protect Felix,

protect the mission;

ignore the screaming, snapping, rotten twigs that you crush beneath your feet.

ignore the giant black hole that Washington had created.

—but more than that, you ignore how it had always been there—


End file.
